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{the fur} matt roberts Going to church every Sunday as a little child I would play with my brother, then lean against my mother’s side and drift off. In the colder months mum would wear grandmother’s expensive, ancient fur coat. She was so warm and I would smell her perfume in my dreams. Now she’s gone and I am a man in the same small town I grew up in. I shoot animals in the head, in the hills. Put my hands on them and stroke the fur until the body goes cold. |
